Calamity Jena (Invertary 4)

“Yes, we do,” Gordon said. “Mostly we have them in a catalogue people can flick through, but there’s a wee selection in the back room.”

“The junk room?”

“That’s not junk. It’s overflow.”

“Seriously? People are supposed to shop in there?”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Yes. It is.” She put her hands on her hips. “I’ll sort that room next.”

As Jena turned her attention back to her work, she realised that, for the first time in a long time, she felt happy. Sure, her house was a dump, her bank account was teetering on empty, she’d had to sell her car to pay for new roof tiles and her cheating ex was hounding her. Yet despite the chaos that was her life, she felt good. She’d found something she loved doing, in a place she loved being. She was making friends, getting to be part of a family—if only for a little while. People were keen to get to know her past the persona who danced wildly on stage at night. It felt good. She felt good. Coming to Scotland was the best decision she’d ever made.

When the bell over the door rang, announcing a new customer, Jena turned towards them with a genuine smile.

It froze on her face as though she’d been doused with quick drying cement.

“Jena, honey!” The squeal was excited. The greeting enthusiastic. Pity Jena had nothing to do with either emotion.

She was suddenly engulfed in a cloud of cheap perfume and immobilised in a vice-like embrace.

“You were so smart moving to Josh’s hometown. That’s my girl. Always thinking of ways to help her mom’s career.”

With weary resignation, Jena patted her mother’s back in a semblance of a hug.

“That’s exactly why I did it, Mom, just for you.” She knew her mom would completely miss the sarcastic tone.

“I know!” Her mother stepped back from her and clapped her hands in glee. “Now where is he? I have my guitar in the car. I’m ready to go.”

Matt picked up lunch for Jena after a morning dealing with the insanity of Invertary. He’d split up a fight at the old folks’ home over a dominoes game gone bad. That was followed by a call from Morag McKay insisting Betty had stolen her cat—again. Matt was beginning to hate Morag’s cat. And quite possibly Morag as well. Lastly, he’d swung past the pub where Claire’s new boyfriend was having coffee with his criminally insane boss. He hadn’t spoken to Grunt; instead he’d spent half an hour staring at him. He was certain Grunt got the message. The one where Matt promised a painful death if he kept spending time with his sister.

After doing his brotherly duty, he’d stopped at the new café on the outskirts of town. It had won Matt over the first time he’d popped into the place. The woman who owned it knew how to cook. She also sold the best sandwiches on the planet. The bread was made in store, the ingredients were organic and the dressings were mind-blowing. He eyed the bag on the seat beside him and wondered if he should have bought a couple extra for later.

He let the peace of his hometown soothe the frustrations of his morning. The midday sun blinked through heavy grey clouds that promised afternoon rain. A lone boat bobbed on the loch, and even from the top of the high street Matt knew it was the Murdoch family out fishing. Part of him hated that he had to leave the place he loved to have a career—one that didn’t involve filing reports on missing cats.

He pulled up in front of the hardware store to find Lake waiting for him.

“Trouble?” Matt grabbed the bag of sandwiches from the seat beside him.

“No, but I have news. Harry’s in the shop.” He nodded towards his security shop, Eye Spy.

Matt put the sandwiches back in his car. Taking food anywhere near his cousin was a mistake. Harry had hollow legs and a constantly growling stomach.

They pushed through the door into the security shop. The front of Lake’s business was set up as a normal shop, selling things like alarm systems, webcams and window locks. The back and the converted apartment above the shop were used as offices and meeting rooms for his security business. He was fast gaining an international reputation for providing quality personal security, and for being able to solve situations that sat outside the normal interests of the law enforcement agencies. Things they didn’t have time for, or were hampered by borders and conflicting national laws. There was a waiting list for his services, and he was taking on staff as fast as he could manage. It didn’t hinder his reputation any that the UK’s boy wonder of cybersecurity had set up shop in Invertary and seemed to like working with Lake. Matt’s cousin Harry said it was as though he got to play James Bond for real.

“Hey.” Harry looked up from his laptop long enough to acknowledge Matt had arrived. It was more than he usually did when there was a computer near him.

“What did you find?” Matt sat on the old armchair that belonged to Betty McCloud—the town’s resident evil genius and Lake’s octogenarian mascot. “Where’s Betty?”

“Getting her hair done.” Lake flashed a rare smile.

Matt froze before grinning. “The whole three strands of it?”

“She said she wants it to look nice under her hairnet.”

They grinned at each other as Matt felt something prod into his backside. He fished around behind him and came out with a set of false teeth. With disgust he stood, threw them on the chair and marched to the sink to wash his hands.

“I think I’ll sit at the table,” he told a laughing Lake.